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Order of the Fire Box Set

Page 29

by P. E. Padilla


  “I may be able to help a tiny part,” Peiros said. “I do not know where the demons went, but I can sense something in that direction.” He pointed off slightly to the right in relation to the gate at their backs. “It is almost as if I am hearing the demons speak, but behind a thick wall. It is…a murmur. I do not know if it is significant, but it is all I have.”

  “It is definitely significant, Peiros,” Kate said. “Thank you. Anyone else?”

  “We can use Peiros’s ability to hear the demons like a compass,” Benedict said. “Maybe it’ll get stronger the closer we are.”

  “Psht.” It was Visimar. He had a condescending frown on his face.

  “You have something to say, Crater?” Benedict shot back.

  Visimar’s mouth twisted into a grimace and he colored slightly. It wasn’t embarrassment, it was pure anger. Kate had always been too polite to mention the scarring on his face. Benedict didn’t seem to have such inhibitions.

  “Nothing,” Visimar said. “You, in your limited intelligence, would just repeat it anyway. You’re good at doing that, at stating the obvious that someone else has already said.”

  “Listen,” Benedict said, “if you want to—”

  “Enough!” Kate said, stepping in between the men before it came to blows. “Things are stressful enough without us fighting with each other. Does anyone else have anything useful to say?”

  “The demons can move quickly,” Jurdan said. “When they want to, they can cover more miles in a day than a human army. Luckily, they are rarely in a rush unless there is an enemy directly in front of them. Their normal, lazy gait is much slower. If we walk fast, we can catch them. It may take a day or two, but we can catch them.

  “Then, of course, we would need to figure out exactly how to get to the demon lord. But hey, at least we’ll have something to talk about as we pursue them.” He smiled widely and jerked his head toward where Peiros said the feeling pointed toward.

  “That sounds good to me,” Kate said. “Let’s head out. Peiros, if you would direct us, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Peiros headed in the direction Kate hoped they would find their prey. She also hoped the ones they pursued were not too much for them.

  They took off at a rapid clip. It was all Kate could do to keep up without actually lifting her knees and running. Jurdan saw her difficulty and drifted over to her.

  “It’s a method for walking fast. It’s hiking, really, and not the typical military marching the Order prizes so much. When I first made Black, it took me more than two months of extended missions to finally get the hang of it.

  “You don’t have that much time. If you run, you’ll tire yourself out more quickly. Think of it as a circle, with your knees making a loop, but not rising too high.”

  He walked sideways and pointed at her knees as they moved. His finger described an egg shape.

  “You see,” he said, “you don’t have to lift your feet farther than it takes to move to the next position. Let your body get into a rhythm. Once you figure it out, it will seem as natural as…well, as walking.” He winked at her and then drifted away, tapping each of the others on the shoulder.

  The entire group slowed down slightly, causing Kate’s skin to warm even more than the elevated temperature could account for. She hated feeling like the weak link, but what could she do? Until she learned how to keep their pace, she definitely appreciated them slowing down a little.

  The terrain opened up in front of them, barren hills with the occasional gout of flame erupting. The fire seemed to always come out at the same places, so it was easy to keep from getting burned. Kate stopped to inspect one—carefully—and found a jagged rent in the ground, out of which emitted not only the flame on occasion, but also a foul smell. What kind of place had she landed herself in?

  “What a miserable place,” she said to no one. “I can almost understand the demons wanting to get out of here and to our world. It’s just like human kingdoms encroaching on others’ lands and trying to take over. They’re not so different than us, I think.”

  “They’re different.” Benedict spat to the side. “They’re monsters.”

  “As are some people,” Visimar said.

  Benedict growled and glared at the other man, but Visimar simply looked at him, as if daring him to try something.

  “That’s not what I mean,” Kate said hurriedly. “I mean, they kill us, but we kill them, too. That’s the way it is in warfare, each side trying their best to kill each other. They may think we are the monsters.”

  “No,” Peiros said. The firmness in his voice was different than anything Kate had ever heard him say. In that short word, there was no sign of the ultra-polite man she knew.

  Peiros relaxed his tense face and smoothed the frown that was there. “It is different,” he said more softly. “The demons have always been bringers of death and harm to humans, even before the gate was built. From of old, they meddled in human affairs, luring many to their deaths. Have you not heard the legends?

  “I have spent more time in Hell than any other living Black. I have learned their language and listened to their telepathic conversations. They are nothing like us. They are worse even than the worst of the humans of history, the tyrants, murderers, torturers, and rapists. They live to destroy. I tell you from experience that all worlds would be better should the demons suddenly cease to exist.”

  Kate staggered back as if struck. “No, no, I didn’t mean that they weren’t evil. I’m just trying to understand their drive to come into our world, that’s all. I’m trying to understand them.”

  “Perhaps we cannot understand them,” Peiros said. “Not really. I am in a unique position to understand them better than most, maybe better than any human who has ever lived, and I tell you that they are a blight upon our world and their own. I am willing to let them continue living in their own place, but those who set foot in my world, I will kill. I will hunt them down and slaughter them with my last breath.”

  Kate didn’t know what to say to that. The pure vehemence of his statements caught her off guard. Benedict was licking his lips, eyes wide. Jurdan nodded sadly. Aurel had concern in his eyes, as if he felt Kate’s hurting. Visimar looked at Benedict, his face twisted in disgust at the other man’s reaction.

  “It was just an idle thought,” she said, almost too softly for the others to hear.

  “I am sorry, Kate,” Peiros said, his hands together in familiar fashion. “I did not mean to speak harshly. I have been fighting this foe for nearly two decades, much of it close to the gate or on this side of it. I feel strongly about these things, but that does not give me the right to call down your own opinion. I would not wish to unduly influence you. Perhaps it is best to let you form your own opinion based on your experiences.”

  “Thank you, Peiros,” she said. “I understand what you’re saying and that you have more experience in this than me. Why don’t we change the subject?”

  “Tell us about your home, Pretty Kate,” Aurel said, obliging her. “You grew up in the capital city of Kalytras? In the duke’s estate?”

  “Maybe we should go back to arguing,” she said wryly.

  Aurel blinked at her for a moment, then let loose with a booming laugh that probably would have called down the entire demon army on them if they had been within a few miles. He laughed hard for a handful of seconds and then tapered off, wiping one of his eyes.

  “That was funny,” the big man said, “but seriously, I would like to hear about your life. I have never known someone who was from a noble family. There aren’t many in the Order.”

  “That’s right,” Jurdan said. “Most people join the Order to become nobles, not the other way around. Why, I once knew brothers who joined, each betting the other that he would be the one to bring a title to their family. They—”

  “Kate’s story, Jurdan,” Aurel growled. “You can talk later.”

  “Oh, yes,” Jurdan responded, having the decency to cast his eyes toward the ground. “My
apologies.”

  Kate chuckled and nodded to Aurel. “Very well. What would you have me tell you?”

  “How was it being a high nobleman’s daughter?” Aurel said. “How is it different than what you have seen since you joined the Order? How did you get so good with a sword and shield? Have you met the king?”

  Kate put her hands up. “Whoa. Hold on. Let me answer some of those things before you fill my head so full of questions, I don’t remember any of the answers.”

  The corners of Peiros’s mouth turned up, but whether because of Aurel calling down Jurdan or the big brother-little sister relationship she had with Aurel, she wasn’t sure. In any case, it lessened the tension from the moment before.

  “Let me see,” she said. “Easiest answer first. Yes, I have met the king on several occasions. He is a fine man. It seems to me that he is everything a king should be: wise, patient, and dashing.

  “How is it to be a high nobleman’s daughter? To be honest, boring. I was always required to go to big parties where all the people there did nothing but try to fool everyone else into thinking they were important. Nobles talk about politics, court intrigue, financial holdings, and how to better control servants.

  “I was stuffed in a dress, fed fancy meals, and told to be pretty so I could lure a man who was good for the family into making me his wife. It was all a lot of rubbish.

  “It’s much different than my time in the Order. Instead of young noblemen and ladies disliking me for not being like them, Order recruits and soldiers disliked me for not being like them.

  “Until I got into the Black, that is. I love my family, even my brother, though I would never admit it to the pest, but I never felt like I fit in. Not like here. I feel more comfortable in the Black than I ever did anywhere else. It’s like the family I never knew I had.”

  She paused for a moment as what she had just said sank in. She hadn’t really put words to it before, but it was true. She was happy to be where she was, even if that happened to be in Hell on a dangerous mission.

  “As for how I gained my skill with weapons, that is easy enough to explain. From the time I was eight years old, I have trained with Dante Bellweather. He taught me—”

  “Dante Bellweather?” Jurdan interrupted. “The Dante Bellweather who used to be in the Order? Left a decade and a half or so back, went merc?”

  “Yes, the very same,” Kate said. “My father offered him a position to try to make life difficult for his daughter so she would give up her dreams of getting into the Order. It didn’t work. Do you know Dante?”

  “I do. He gave a dashing young recruit some help with his sword work. If it weren’t for him, I never would have gotten into the Black. If I never see him again, please, Kate, buy him an ale or three for me. An artist with a blade, that one. Too bad he left when he did. I heard he was just about to be offered a place in the Black. Would have made a fine addition, too.”

  “Really?” Kate wondered what else the man had not told her. “He never mentioned it.” She thought for a moment. “You have lots of tales, Jurdan. Tell me something embarrassing about Dante, something I can tell him I heard so he can blush for a change.”

  “Good luck making that happen,” Jurdan said. “But I think I have just the story.

  “It had to be nigh on fifteen years ago. I wasn’t in the Black yet, just a normal Red in Platoon Twenty-Four, Olef Squad. Dante wasn’t in my squad, but our platoons had been put together for several shifts. He amazed me with his skills, and I struck up a friendship with him.

  “As it turns out, our platoons were given leave together, two weeks in Leydford. We spent much of that time together.

  “Our Dante was never a bold man anywhere except the battlefield, so when he took a shine to one of the local women, he didn’t know what to do. I, of course, have never had trouble using my golden tongue with anyone, much less with women, so I coached him as he coached me with the sword, and he was pleased with his progress.

  “He was soon spending time with pretty Shiree, and he was hopeful he could make it something a bit more permanent than just the two weeks, time that was rapidly dwindling. He began to despair that he would never be able to tell her how he truly felt before our time would be up and he would have to go back to the gate.

  “I told him it was like battle. Sometimes you had to rush in and be aggressive. I talked to him for a good hour three days before we had to leave, and I could see the fire in his eyes. He told me he would go and speak to the woman right then, while his courage held. I and our friends cheered him on and extracted a promise that he would give us a full detail of how she reacted.

  “When next I saw him, he was even quieter than normal. My heart ached for him, for he obviously did not get the answer he so desired.

  “‘Well,’ I said to him, ‘how did it go? How did she react to you telling her how you feel and what you dreamed of?’

  “He looked at me long and hard. He was silent for so long, I thought maybe he blamed me for being spurned and would never speak to me again. I was afraid I had turned my friend—and my sword coach—against me.

  “Finally, he swallowed once, then twice. Then he summed it all up in just three words.

  “‘She prefers women.’

  “I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. He glared at me and his fist clenched and loosened, threatening to go toward his sword hilt. Still I kept laughing. I couldn’t help myself, though I tried to stop for the sake of his broken heart. I could have died then at his sword and there would have been nothing I could do about it. Hell, I probably would have deserved it.

  “But he didn’t kill me. After glaring for a solid minute, his face softened and then he started shaking. I wasn’t sure what was happening, afraid maybe he had broken in some way.

  “Then he burst out laughing as well. We continued for a good amount of time. With nothing else for it, we went and got drunk. It was a joke between us for as long as we saw each other. Of course, he eventually retired, and I eventually got into the Black. Still, if not a blush, ribbing him about it will still probably earn you a chuckle.”

  Kate smiled but couldn’t find it in herself to laugh in Hell. Maybe, if and when she got out and humankind was safe, she could laugh about it with her mentor. Until then, she was satisfied with the lightening of her heart. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the story or because of the thought of her long-time teacher. She supposed it didn’t matter.

  18

  Their second day in Hell began as any other day of traveling, with a light breakfast of cold, salted meat, crackly wafers of bread-like material, and a bit of cheese they kept wrapped in waxed cloth.

  At least, Kate thought it was the second day. The sky was dark enough to see a few pinpricks of light, but the overall illumination of the place didn’t really change. It always seemed to be a kind of twilight.

  If Kate were honest with herself, she would admit that it irritated her, the lighting. It wasn’t too dim to see, but it wasn’t bright, either. It was somber, and strange shadows danced at the edges of her vision, making her constantly feel like something was there, ready to jump at her if she let her guard down.

  “The light is…different,” Peiros told her when he noticed her eyes darting. “You will become accustomed to it. The shadows, they are a trick of the light and the terrain. Give it some time; your senses will learn what to filter out and what to set off your internal alarms. Until then, there are those of us who have spent enough time here to have developed this sense.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She had noticed Aurel and Visimar glancing around nervously, too, so she didn’t feel as embarrassed by it. Benedict had never been to Hell, but the shadows didn’t seem to bother him, like he was comfortable in them. His eyes were always intense and often looked like he saw things others didn’t anyway, even in brightest sunlight back home. She wasn’t sure what would shake the man.

  “How many of the Black have actually gone into Hell?” Kate asked Peiros. He seemed to be somewhat of an ex
pert on entering the strange world. Jurdan had been there before, but she had never been told exactly how many missions through the gate either of the men had gone on. It seemed that Peiros had been to Hell many more times than the blond-haired man. The way Jurdan deferred to the dark-haired man alone told her that much.

  “Only four of those still living have gone on sorties into Hell,” Peiros said. “You have two of us in your team.”

  “And who has gone through the gate more times, if I may ask?”

  “You may,” he said. “And I will answer you. Of the four, I have completed more missions in Hell.”

  Jurdan snorted. “Peiros is too modest. He has gone into Hell more than the other three of us combined.”

  “Ah, but that was not the case until several months ago. Koren Merklen taught me everything I know about Hell. He went in many more times than I, probably fivefold the number of missions I have completed.”

  “Koren Merklen!” Kate exclaimed. “I have heard stories of him. He is one of the great heroes of the Black. At least, that was what I heard when I was simply a duke’s daughter, and stories of his exploits abound in the ranks of the Red.”

  “You have heard true,” Jurdan said. “You probably have not heard even a fraction of his heroics. Even among the Black, he is something special, something above the rest of us. At least, he was.”

  “Was?” Kate asked. “What happened?”

  “Several months ago, he went on a mission into Hell. He took with him another veteran, Gery Thurnsen. They never made it out. A few missions to search for him were sent. I was in two of them. We never found any trace. The Black, and the Order, lost much with his passing.”

  So great the respect everyone had even for Koren’s name, they all bowed their heads and were silent for a moment. It happened spontaneously, without anyone leading them in it. To Kate, it just felt right to be silent and think of the man who was a cornerstone to the present-day Black.

  “But we can mourn our brother another time,” Jurdan said. “For now, we have another mission.”

 

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